


Pino and Radishes

by nnozomi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 12:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17725085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nnozomi/pseuds/nnozomi
Summary: Methods of coping with morning sickness, impending fatherhood, and other life situations.





	Pino and Radishes

_I can’t do this._

Takeshi doesn’t say it out loud, because he’s in the supermarket buying up all the pickled radish on the shelf; that’s all Yuuko wants to eat this week. The old lady passing by him, leaning heavily on her supermarket cart, gives him and his basket full of pickled radish a suspicious glare. He leaves one packet on the shelf, just in case she wants it, but she goes right on by and moves on to the pickled plums, looking back over her shoulder to glare at him again.

Maybe it’s nothing to do with his pickled radish binge; maybe she knows exactly who he is and is glaring at him for being the jerk who got his girlfriend pregnant (with triplets yet, unless the doctors are going to change their mind and say twins again) straight out of high school. _Leave me alone, obaachan, at least we went and got married, right? In your day I bet everybody was married and pregnant by eighteen anyway._ Or maybe the whole world has just had it with him, nothing personal.

“I can’t do this,” he says again, aloud this time, but in a soft mumble. This time the old lady doesn’t turn her head.

 

He can’t talk to his mom, or Yuuko’s parents. They’ve all been amazing, but the whole thing has been gone over sixty-five million times and they don’t need to hear about how he is suddenly having qualms like he’s never done before.

He can’t talk to Yuuko herself. Well, he could, they can talk about anything, but she’s already the size of a Zamboni and miserable with it and he doesn’t want to do one thing that might make her any more miserable, like giving her the slightest idea that he might regret _anything_. Yuuko is, like, the best thing that’s ever happened to him, he’d (yeah, still, even more so) like to put up Yuuko posters all over their apartment and hoard Yuuko figurines and read magazine interviews with Yuuko until the pages frayed, just like Katsuki with his Russian obsession, it’s just too bad that Yuuko’s not famous for anything so there aren’t actually any posters or figurines or magazine interviews available. Takeshi thinks she should be famous just for being Yuuko, but apparently that’s not how it works.

Anyway.

He can’t talk to Katsuki, because the guy is such a freaking innocent. When Takeshi and Yuuko were doing the thing that got them on the road to marriage and parenthood, Katsuki was either mooning over yet another photo of Viktor Nikiforov or practicing his triple axel, or else hanging out with his dog, same like he’d been doing when they were all thirteen and Takeshi couldn’t even get Yuuko to hold hands with him. Of course, Katsuki’s jumps are a whole lot better now than they were at thirteen and he’s got a national ranking to show for it, but otherwise, he’s the last person you’d go to for actual grownup problems.

So in the end, Takeshi ends up leaning against the back wall outside the Seven-Eleven by the bridge, sharing a cigarette with Katsuki’s big sister.

He’s been, honest, pretty scared of Mari since he was eight years old and she told him just how she was going to kick his butt if he kept on bullying her little brother, and gave him a fat lip to make sure he knew the score. She is, basically, the last person he’d have thought of taking his worries to. But there she was in the convenience store, buying cigarettes and a box of Pino, and before he knew it he’d blurted out “Um, can I, like, talk to you for a second?” And here they are.

“What’s with the takuan?” Mari asks mildly, nodding at his supermarket bag full of pickled radish.

“Oh. Um, Yuuko says it’s the only thing she wants to eat right now. That and strawberries, but you can’t get strawberries this time of year.”

“No, I guess not. Too bad. Tell her I said hi and that if she eats that much takuan at a go her kids are going to come out bright yellow.” Takeshi snickered in spite of himself. “I’m kidding,” Mari shrugged. “Tell her I said hi, anyway. I haven’t seen her since you all graduated. She doing okay?”

“Actually, yes. I mean, she really, _really_ wants to get finished being pregnant, but she’s, like, happy about it.”

“And you aren’t?” without missing a beat. 

“I _am_. I’m just completely freaked out!” before he knew he was going to say it. “Wouldn’t you be?” he added limply.

Mari handed him her cigarette and popped open the Pino box. “Let’s say, if anyone was going to knock up Yuuko-chan with triplets straight out of high school, I’m just as glad it was you and not my little brother. He wouldn’t have coped.”

“No way Katsuki would get ANYWHERE NEAR Yuuko with his mind on—“ Takeshi began hotly. Mari winked at him, and he gulped. “Anyway. I mean, I don’t mean to, like, insult your brother to your face or anything—“ he didn’t put it past Mari to give him another split lip, even now—“but saying I’m coping better than him is not, like, a high bar to cross.”

Mari shrugged. “Got to start somewhere,” she said thickly, her mouth full of vanilla icecream and chocolate. “Want one?”

Takeshi sighed and helped himself, crunching through the thin chocolate coating. “You think Yuuko could eat these?”

“Worth a try.” Mari licked ice cream off her top lip. “They’ve got some limited-edition caramel ones in there too—“ she jerked her chin at the convenience store entrance. “Too sweet for me. She might enjoy them with some pickled radish.”

“Hey. She’s supposed to be the one feeling sick to her stomach, not me,” Takeshi jibed, and they both laughed briefly. It felt good.

“I should get on back,” he said, handing her back her cigarette. “Thanks, Katsuki-san.”

“For what, two puffs and a Pino?” Mari tucked the cigarette into a corner of her mouth and patted him on the back. “Hang in there, Nishigori.”

Takeshi hefted his bag of pickled radish. “I’m gonna try.”


End file.
